Legacy
by DevonLoch
Summary: Weyland-Yutani has funded a research outpost on "Planet 4" in 2110 to find a hostile planet with a mysterious gruesome past. David's derelict lab is discovered, and with it an abandoned rookery of xenomorph eggs intact. Following the work of two doctors, one xeno progeny stands out among the rest, but at what cost? In our future, lies our past.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Long time _Alien_ franchise lover, and in no way own anything except my own characters and concepts. This is an idea I've been toying with for a while, and just started throwing it on paper.

This takes place following the events of Alien: Covenant, on "Planet 4" aka now "S87-5.4," approximately 6yrs afterwards, in 2110, and humans start to colonize it. I'll expand more on it later. We follow the journey of our researchers, a colony of xenomorphs, and the Legacy of our predecessors…

* * *

Inside every hall of Outpost ' _Legacy_ ,' on planet S87-5.4, the glaring yellow emergency lights flared in staggered unison towards established safe rooms while the alarms wailed in their bass tone.

" _ **All non-essential personnel, please evacuate to the nearest designated safe zones. All armament division, report to your assigned posts for deployment. This is not a drill.**_ " The ultra-calm female AI announced over the PA system.

" _ **All non-essential personnel, please evacuate to the nearest designated safe zones. All armament division, report to your assigned posts for deployment. This is not a drill.**_ "

Despite the ominous warning, every person ushered themselves calmly to their necessary locations. At the bridge, several command staff were pouring over the soft green glow radial map of the base and the surrounding landscape for 2 kilometers. On edges of the map, 5 red markers were approaching the base rather quickly in a semi group-like formation.

"Do we-" the Defensive Coordinator Officer Leer barked as he made his way onto the bridge deck, his words cut abruptly by the external raid sirens that blasted outside.

"Do we have a visual on them yet?"

"We do sir." Announced another officer, pausing as the next wail of the siren sounded off.  
"One of the packs of neomorphs."

"Neo-?" The alarmed blasted again as the DC Officer replied.  
"Can someone shut that off. I can hardly think in here."

A few buttons pushed and the raid sirens closest to the bridge was disabled.

"Neomorphs, sir." The lesser ranking officer replied, noticing the perplexed look on his commanding officer's face.  
"The white ones. There's only 5 of them this time."

"Ugh, those bastards again. Dr. Taylor, Dr. Warren?" DC Officer Leer turned his eyes to the two scientists who had come to the bridge earlier at the first ring of the alarms.

"Yes, Commander Leer?" Dr. Huxley Warren, responded, one of the head researches at LG-S87-5.4.

"Do you think your girls are up for a bit of fun?" There was a slight smile pressed between the serious expression on the DC Officer's face.

Dr. Warren turned to his counter-part, Dr. Nell Taylor, who looked rather pale and nervous. They stared at one another for a long moment before she finally gave a slight nod of her head. Dr. Warren turned back to the commanding officer.

"It'll only be their third time out in the yard. Just make sure your men give them a little distance. They have a tendency to be a bit, _high strung_ , after a little sparring. Dr. Taylor and I will get them prepped."

"You have 4 minutes to get them out there."

"We'll only need one."

* * *

A large subterranean door just outside of the towering perimeter walls of Outpost Legacy slowly opened with a small billow of dust, a chorus of bickering hisses and screams erupting before going silent from inside. Through the sprawling field of prairie grass, five ghostly beasts dashed and scampered at a fast trot, covering adequate ground but retaining a modest stealthy approach. The amassed smell of so much food was so intoxicating. The pack of neomorphs clicked in coordination, fanning around towards to one side of the gate. Too many frontal assaults had resulted in heavy casualties, and the memories still carried physical pain with them. It was imbued into their very being.

A lankier neomorph furthest on the flank of the troupe, stopped in its tracks, a curious familiar odor peeking its interest. With another click and low grunt, its conveyed its findings to the others. The rest of the pack paused, tasting the air too. The curious neomorph inched closer to the gaping ramp at the base of the perimeter wall, following the scent. The scent of other neomorphs. The scent of their clan member who had been captured by these strange alien invaders who walked upright. It peered into the darkness, watching, waiting. Finally, it ventured in.

Inside the bridge, the commanding staff waited, holding their breath.

With a horrified shriek a white blur sprinted full tilt back out of the subterranean opening, pursued by two large, monstrous black figures lunging forward, followed by three smaller xenomorphs that immediately broke towards the center of the neomorph troupe. Even from inside the thick glass, the mortified shrieks pierced the high walls of Outpost Legacy and reverberated off the steep valley walls of stone. The prairie grass began to wash over in shades of yellow and red as chaos ensured. Two of the smaller black xenos ran down one neomorph -one jumping on its back before the second joined and proceeded to shred its flesh.

Of the two larger black xenos, the broader one was dismembering another neomorph, while the smaller one had broken off in pursuit of the two retreating neomorphs. The two neomorphs split to run opposite directions, sprinting fast loops to make an attack from behind. One leapt into the air, claws poised to deliver a crippling blow to the back of the neck. It was struck out of the air with a rush of wind, a large black tail striking it down into the earth. The second neomorph darted between the massive tall legs and sprung vertically into the armored chest, and into a fatal trap. Two sets of short powerful lanky hands deployed straight into its face, grasping around its fleshy bulbous forehead and grasping shut. While it squealed in agony and panic, its captor took one enormous step to its crippled pack member, and planted a clawed foot square into its chest, the frail bones cracking as it was pushed into the ground.

The pinned neomorph cried out, along with the other agonized sounds of its dying clan mates in the distance. It clawed and writhed futility under the massive predator who stood above, still holding the other neomorph by its head while it too, kicked, clawed and squirmed in wasted efforts. The successor leaned in closer to investigate the pinned neomorph, barring its array of wet teeth in a hushed hiss as its sheer weight flattened its prey's organs further. The neomorph gazed up with its faceless visage, smelling the familiar smell again. It clicked at the hunter.

With curiosity, the black creature tilted its head, the tall flared crest partially eclipsing the sunlight. And with one metallic clip, the jaws hinged wide open and the head of the crushed neomorph exploded. With its prize in the hand, the xenomorph trekked back to the scene of carnage and the subterranean gate.

 **-Up in the Bridge-**

"You're girls are…impressive." Noted the Defensive Coordinator Officer, feeling a primal fear wrinkle in his own gut at the display of raw cunning power.

"They're incredibly intelligent. They're very capable hunters even without a true established hive social order. However, the success of a hive depends on a strong queen." Dr. Warren commented, tapping a few buttons on the tablet computer to rally the flock back to their lair.

As the smaller of the large xenomorphs rejoined her group, a squabble ensued over the bounty she had brought back with her. The two large females began to hiss and circle while the three smaller xenos darted between the stomping claws and whipping tails, biting at tearing at the remaining dangling neomorph. The moment a leg was sawed off with a powerful swipe from the lesser xenos, the two large females went head to head, quite literally, in a shoving match with a thunderous crash, the neomorph still dangling by its head with the three feisty beasts took pot shots at it, drawn into the frenzy of the battle. With another thunderous headbutt, the neomorph was dropped to the ground -and amidst the chaos, sprinted for its life on 3 legs.

"And...there it goes." Dr. Warren sighed in humorous disappointment, watching as the three smaller xenos completely missed their opportunity to continue the hunt because they were too sidetracked with mock fighting with one another while the two sisters hashed it out. With another tap on the tablet, a small alarm sounded from inside the lower gate, and the females backed off, ending their fight with lingering hisses and posturing before returning below ground, the three miscreants scampering after them.

* * *

Nell readied her ID bad at the massive shutter doors that had been emblazoned with "BLOCK E" the caption below reading in smaller text "Defense Research and Engineering Network." With a swipe, the door security panel chimed and a green light illuminated the screen.

"I hate to admit its been a while since I've come down here." Officer Leer apologized,  
"Though to be honest, your girls, as you so affectionately call them, kind of scare the shit out of me, Huxley."

"No offense taken Officer Leer." Huxley Warren chuckled, stepping aside to let his coworker and the officer thought the door first.

"Just call me Ed." Officer Leer waved off the formality.

"Well Ed, to be fair, Dr. Taylor and I have been working with the xenomorph strain for over 16 years, that's almost over half our lives. We've engineered and hand reared countless generations of xenomorphs in our short careers, and have made astounding discoveries along the way."

"What's the name of that lab rat one you keep around? She was one of the ones out in the field today, right?" Officer Ed Leer remarked, his eyes wandering around the pristine lab as they made their way through the various glass paneled research laboratories. Dr. Nell Taylor shot a noticeably hostile look towards her counterpart, Dr. Warren, staggering him for a moment.

"Her name is Dren." Nell said flatly, swiping her ID badge at a secondary containment door separating the smaller labs from the large subterranean observatory. The air lock opened with a rush of cool air. Nell limped forward on her crutch, feeling slightly out of breath.

"She was the one you saw capture one the neomorph and bring it back. The other one is her sister, Amsel."

"Any particular reason why she didn't kill it, like they've been trained to?" There was a hint of something in his voice Nell didn't care for. She was about to snap back when Huxley intervened.

"They're not trained Ed, they're taught. The xenomorphs possess a natural high intelligence and as we've recently discovered, a unified conscious. And through numerous generations of consistent breeding, we've seen a jump in their mental development and reasoning. When employing methods of training, compared to methods of teaching, we've yielded greater success rates with teaching them."

Inside the subterranean observatory, the large oblong octagonal window booted up, the edged backlight and indirect lighting illuminating the room it was viewing in a soft blue hue. The lights within the observatory itself dimmed to almost black. Once their eyes adjusted, inside the opposing room the walls were covered in glaring slime and coiled bodies of a whole small colony of xenomorphs, quietly moving about in their daily tasks. Officer Leer gasped under his breath at the sight.

"Wow." Was all Ed managed.

"Beautiful, aren't they? Primarily made up of the broods from Generations IX, X, and XII, with a few exceptions here and there."

"What happened to the others?" Ed Leer stepped closer, so he was almost nose to nose with the glass, watching the entire chamber move in silent unison.

"The previous generations have either died or, killed each other. Brood IV was the first group we saw a breakthrough in sociability, and only about 6 or so of them remain. Among them is Firken, our first successful queen, and her two sisters Amsel, and Dren. She has her own chamber off in the back." Huxley narrated, nodding in the general direction of the monarch queens lair.

"Brood IX were the first group we were able to handle from their initial emergence, though not for long too long. They've still quite independent but take guidance from Firken, even though she is not their generator mother. Brood XI if you recall, was the group that went rogue."

"Ah yes, I remember those bastards." Ed grumbled at the memory.

They had nearly pitted a hole through Outpost _Legacy_. The best course of action they had was to release them outside before they tore through the entire colony. They had been spotted on the different monitors scattered over the landscape but had long since gone into hiding in the forests somewhere.

"What ever happened with that group?" Officer Leer inquired.

"We've only been able to take a few guesses at it. Even though they are all descendants from the same strain, we've considered that it's a sort of 'wild type' within genetic structure. A type of 'fail safe' if you will, that contributes to the xenomorph origins of malleability and adaptability, ensuring the species survival." Nell Taylor explained, touching her hand to the glass as a smaller drone xenomorph ambled by the window.  
"Even out here, nature has its way of keeping balance."

"Brood XII is one of our model pedigrees. Twenty fifth generation human bred, with the best features and body structure consistent with each offspring. They're those ones you primarily seen in this colony. They take on a lot of the hive duties of cleaning, building and tending to one another." Huxley added.

Ed Leer narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing the xenomorph hive that was lurking beneath the very colony he was tasked to run.

"Which one is Dren?"

"Right there." Huxley pointed to a mass on the ceiling.

"Where?" Leer strained to look closer, but could hardly distinguished where one monster began, and one ended.

"Right…" Huxley started, pausing when there was an audible vocalized disturbance from the ceiling. Beneath a mass of drone xenomorphs, a broad angular crown emerged, the group of drones clamoring about on the ceiling before the large female dropped to the floor, landing in almost absolute silence. Presumably Dren, the large female snapped her jaw at a clanmate and padded her way to the glass observatory window.  
"…there." Huxley finished, smiling in the ambient shadows as Dren huffed against the glass at his eye level, then proceeded to move closer to the unexpected visitor.

Officer Leer could do nothing to hide the stricken look on his face as he was chin to chin with the eyeless beast as it inspected him through the glass. Deep in her throat, the named xeno Dren, made a noise, an inquisitive short whimper that reminded him of a dog whining as it looked at him. The sound had such a sharp ring to it, it felt like metal claws were raking from inside his check. Satisfied she moved down the length of glass to where Nell stood, greeting the doctor with a deep bass cackled purr. The large xeno stood more upright, the smaller set of hands close to her chest, moving in small rapid motions.

"What is it doing?" Officer Leer asked, his voice concerned and a touch frightened.

"Communicating." Huxley said matter of fact, stepping around the uniformed officer and joining his colleague. Dr. Nell Taylor returned the gestures back.

"We've successfully been able to teach Dren sign language. She has a very rudimentary understanding of the verbal human language as well, and is capable of expressing free will, formulate personal thought, and feelings. So far, she's been the only one ever to possess such extraordinary intellect and reasoning."

"What, what is she saying?" Officer Leer quipped, feeling a sinking feeling in his gut. The notion that such a thing existed, something as volatile and already natural born killers, was more frightening than the feral white freaks that harassed their colony on a regular basis. And these two wackos were acting so nonchalant about it. Like it was a god damn pet.

"Right now, she wants to know, if-" Huxley paused, studying the rapid exchange of conversation, then laughed.  
"She wants to know why you're so frightened, Ed?"

* * *

A/N: If you like it, let me know! Even if it's a quick shout out. Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: More technical stuff, but I was hoping to shed a little background light on the research and the significance of the xeno colony structure and origin. Also fleshed out some cool ideas for the story's path. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

After the excitement of the successful neomorph thwart, and the rest of the colony had returned to their daily on-goings, Nell and Huxley sat in front of several display monitors, reviewing the footage from earlier of the xenomorphs deployment. The subtle cues and communication, the swift movement and execution. Clearly Dren and her sister Amsel headed the attack, Amsel leading the charge. Yet their monitors had picked up a swarm of activity within the hive once the hunt was one, and something from Firkin from deep inside her own chamber.

"Look at this here, right- here." Huxley paused the video feed, and the synchronized audio overlay, touching the spike in the graph.

"That's Firken. And here again."

"Right when Dren broke off in pursuit of those two neomorphs." Nell echoed.

"And again when she had captured the one." Huxley used his fingers on the touch screen to manually move the footage forward to the particular moment.

"Hmm." They both pondered out a sigh, before Dr. Warren jotted the notes down in his book. Nell stared off into the still images, sliding it back in forth, watching the moment when Dren exploded the neomorphs head open while it was under her foot.

"What do you think Firkin has to do with this? You think she was ordering Dren to bring it back to the colony?" Nell started, tapping her pen cap to her own nose.

"If so, what for? What purpose would it bring?"

"Or what dangers?" Nell proposed, giving a sideways glance to Huxley.

"Firkin's smart. She's a relatively new queen, but she's been excellent with leading and organizing the colony. And a successful mother. I doubt she'd risk the colony."

The two scientists pondered over the thought provoking questions. Despite all their research on this planet, they had struggled to figure out the exact origin of the neomorphs. They were like a plague upon the land, attacking the newer sub colonies that were starting to get a foot hold. During the exploration of the planet, they had made so many unusual discoveries, which they had struggled to decipher. Preserved specimens of almost prototype Xenomorphs, the charred remains of a civilization, the countless drawings of a woman in various states of what one could only describe as dissection and decay. Something had happened here that no one could quite explain. Except maybe one…

"Just when we think we're figuring them out…" Nell sighed pushing her hand through her hair.

"If we figured them out, then what would be the fun in studying them?" Huxley chuckled. He had a point.

* * *

In the 10 days following the most recent attack by the neomorph band, the creatures had steered far from the Outpost _Legacy_. Perhaps it was the scent of their deceased brethren scatter through the grass, but it was a welcomed relief to the humans of the _Legacy_ , and a testament to the successful deployment of their xenomorph arsenal.

"And of course, with great power, comes great responsibility." Groaned Huxley, hanging over the back of his chair. If there was one thing he despised, it was the compounding paperwork their lab kept generating.

"Back to work Hux." Nell chided, her fingers rapping away furiously at her keyboard. She hated it as much as he did.  
"It's a necessary evil."

"We've been at this report forever now. I think we need an intermission."

"The sooner we wrap this up, the sooner we can get back to the good stuff. Come on, chop chop."

"A walk. Some coffee. Something! Come one Nell, I'm dying here!" Dr. Warren whined, spinning himself in his chair.

"What are you, five?" Nell laughed, watching the 36 year old throw his mock tantrum.  
"Fine, we'll take a break and get some coffee."

"Finally!" Huxley practically bounced out of his seat and rushed over to Dr. Taylor to help her up. She swatted away his assistance once she got a hold of her crutch.

As they escaped the confines of Block E, Dr. Warren opened up the conversation.  
"So I've been thinking,"

"Woah, stop right there, that's your first mistake Hux." Nell teased as they walked down the galleria, overlooking the deceptively scene landscape outside.

"Shut up! Now seriously, this is going to sound crazy, but I had this dream." Dr. Warren started, building the suspense.  
"But it wasn't just any dream, it was more like, a vision. Like one of those out-of-the body experiences."

"You sure you went sniffing some chemicals before bed last night?"

"No, I'm serious Nell, it was unlike anything I've ever experienced before."

"How about I get some coffee in my system first before I play therapist?"

Huxley carried Nell's beverage over for her to a table in the domed food court. Once they settled in, Warren expanded on his vision in detail. He was outside of the compound walls, looking through eyes that weren't his own, making his way to a strange cave with convoluted tunnels and a waterfall. A mass of black xenomorph bodies were scattered about at the entrance like a massacre, some freshly dead, others long decaying and covered in rot and mold. Several had ID tags attached to them -the missing members of Brood XI. The further he explored, the danker it got, until there was barely any light. There, lurking in the darkness, in all its glory, an abandoned husk of a rookery

"They have a queen." Hux said flatly, keeping his voice low.

"A queen? I think you've been hanging out with the girls too much Huxley." Nell scoffed, finishing up the last dregs of her black coffee.

"I'm telling you Nell, I think its entirely plausible that one of the members from Brood XI produced a viable queen. You and I know ourselves how malleable the xenomorph genome is. If there's no queen controlling the group, what's to stop one from…metamorphosing into one?"

"Metamorphosing?" Nell raised an eyebrow, amused by the idea.

"On earth alone different insect, fish, reptiles and amphibians were capable of altering their gender to suit the needs of the species. What stops the xenomorphs from the same capabilities when placed under stress? Didn't you learn anything from watching _Jurassic Park_?"

Nell laughed outright, catching the attention from several other occupants of the food court.

"I can't believe you just referenced that ancient movie! Hah!"  
When she finally composed herself, she gave her thoughtful response,  
"Look, while I won't discredit your hypothesis, we also don't have any supporting data. Firkin has been the only successful female to fledge into a queen, and even then, her reproductive organs have been less than successful. What makes you think one of the specimens from Brood XI would be a successful candidate?"

Huxley hadn't forgotten about that. While Firkin had proved to be the superior specimen she had very limited success in producing viable offspring. Only through extensive lab work and manipulation, they had been successful in continuing only the best of their xenomorph line. Amsel and Dren had been born from the same Brood IV as Firken. Both displayed the necessary phenotypic traits of queens, roughly defined as "Praetorians", yet only Firken had reached maturity to both command the hive and establish a rookery.

"I don't have any supporting evidence -yet. I kind of think we might be able to bargain ourselves to get another expeditionary team out beyond the walls and collect some new samples. Maybe even put some more sensor buoys out to collect additional data and sightings." Huxley proposed. He could see the gears working behind Dr. Taylor's eyes.

"As much as that would be fun, we have work to get back to Dr. Warren."

* * *

 **-Back at the lab, Block E-**

"Done. Done…done. Annnnnd -DONE!" Huxley narrated his final keystrokes on the report, celebrating as he spun a celebratory lap in his desk chair with a dramatic stretch. But he wasn't done _just_ yet. Nell had clocked out earlier, having said she felt under the weather after staring at the blaring monitors for the past few days compiling data. He pulled up the internal mailing program, and opened a new message, filling in the target group and attaching his report findings. Before he hit the "send" option, he felt a warm tingle creep down the back of his neck. Instinctively he reached back, but found nothing there, but he knew he had been hunched at his desk for the past few hours, so it would be no surprise that his body was aching for relief from his desk duties.

With a final tap, he sent his reports. Dr. Warren slowly rose from his chair, hearing his back and shoulders incite a few audible pops as he worked through a series of stretches. It had been a long week or more of tediously building the case report. The few other research techs had taken his and Nell's main stead place as the primary biologists in their absence, tending to monitoring the colony's activity. Especially post deployment for any notably changes in behavior or social structure.

Huxley made his way down the corridors to the darkened observatory, the room filled with the almost undetectable ambient dark blue light. He stood in front of the large window, his eyes finally adjusting to reveal long sleek figures swimming through the darkness. While the majority of the hive slept, several members would actively patrol the chambers and stand watch at particular posts.

Through their years of research, Nell and himself had determined it to be a learned behavior, mimicking the very way Outpost _Legacy_ had set up perimeter patrols and guard towers. The xenomorphs in their own right, had a basic defense system of a 'warrior' caste who were the first line of protection for the colony, but they only reacted when the attack was provoked. It was unorganized chaos, overwhelming the offenders with just sheer power and numbers. There was a high rate of loss, and thus higher production needed from the queen to replace them.

But then they began to learn. Huxley had suggested there had to be some sort of 'telepathic' communication, a sort of "hive mindset" or "shared conscious" in the xenomophology, but his research had been struggling to find some sort of measurable proof. Recently, he had been dabbling in the inherited xenomorph memories, which appeared to be passed down from generation to generation. They had begun noticing it upon the third cycle of in lab xenomorph breeding. Natural instinct, again and again, had produced voracious, but fearful offspring. Upon initial emergence, everything was viewed as a threat, where the neonate would either lunge at the first thing they saw, or simply try to run away and hide until it could feed and grow. Nell had made the suggestion to limit the exposure of different people to the emergence of the neonate xenomorphs for imprinting studies. Several broods later, they had yielded results.

Then Firken came into the world. It was noted she was a 4th generation human strain bred xeno -with no queen they had improvised xenomorph DNA combination to try to yield viable eggs for implantation. After her emergence, she had clung to the body of her host, going so far as to climb back into the emergence cavity, and started shivering and crying out like a small kitten until Dr. Taylor had come over to the containment pods. Almost immediately within seconds of Nell's proximity, Firken had finally poked her head out of the cavity and mewled until Huxley and Nell made the executive decision to see if their thesis held any viability. Firken had taken one look at Nell before immediately climbing onto her back, and clinging in between her shoulders. And any of Firken's offspring had since responded in a similar fashion -responding to either Dr. Taylor or Dr. Warren exclusively without hesitation.

It had also been posed that such direct, exclusive human-line breeding of the xenomorphs had acclimated them to more _Homo sapiens_ traits and tendencies. More socialization between xenomorphs, a shift in the hard-wired primitive hive concept, to a more eusociality similar to the Hymenoptera order back on earth. Even a further breakdown in the social caste structure, where individual xenos displayed unique personalities, intelligence, and relationships with one another. Primitive hive structure had the sole premise to preserve the "queen" or whomever had been the established dominant of a particular brood. Also consistent with Hymenoptera systems, a large majority of the xenomorphs were female, with small select caste groups of male born sporadically for the colony dynamic needs.

And with the heavy influence of human-line breeding and engineering, the xenomorphs had also experienced some variability on physical development. Slower growth rates, and maturity. Offspring more dependent on the members of the colony to raise them. They had retained their predatory instincts, but had also learned from observations, how to coordinate a work as a group, and even solve problems. They had also learned that their human caretakers were not immediate threats, and were not direct food sources either. Adolescent xeno even displayed mischievous, playful antics one would expect from children, or any young animal. The more they studied them, the more it was apparent they were some simple-minded organization. Even groups raised in complete isolation from the rest of the colony, had displayed inherited memories and puzzle solving capacities from birth. Their adaptability, and inherited intelligence, and knowledge from generation to generation had in fact, earned them the nickname, " _the perfect creature_." Huxley and Nell had dedicated their lives to understanding these beautiful species, and the wondrous planet they lived on.

A light tap at the glass snapped Huxley out of his deep ponderous thoughts and face to face with Dren, who had emerged from the black deep in complete silence. She huffed against the window, softly nickering. Xenomorph language was a constantly evolving mess, but within the colony, the nickering (and the very audible whining) were exclusive sounds used by the praetorians and to-be-queens, such as Dren and Amsel. The other xenomorphs members communicated with their own variety of clicks, hisses, and varied chatter, but the most prominent, and most vocal communicators were the larger caste females.

"I missed you too, Dren." Huxley smiled, the large female expressing her disdain for his absence with a yawn. Out of all of them though, Dren had been _his_ from day one. Deftly, she moved her secondary hands in conversation.

"Tomorrow. I promise, sweetie." Huxley both signed and announced back, slowly so she could understand. Both speaking and signing had reinforced her learning capacity, making Dren's working vocabulary outstanding.

"Yes, and Nell too."

He watched her hands again, noting the sharp huff she made.

"Yes, she's alright. She's been a little under the weather. You know she doesn't take care of herself."

That prompted a breathy huff. A flurry of gestures, and Dren's expressed concerns.

"I'll talk to her tomorrow. Or you can just ask her yourself." Huxley made a mental note to snoop through some of Dr. Taylor's personal files. She'd never admit anything was wrong even if he slapped her in the face with her own medical files. Nell was just so stubborn.

"Goodnight Dren. I'll see you in the morning."

With a parting wave, Huxley left the chambers, watching Dren slink back into the shadows among her clan mates.


End file.
